Fractured : Ballora's Origins
by Dakotaraptor52
Summary: Christine is the loving wife of William Afton, with three wonderful children: Micheal, Elizabeth, and Jason. Her world is turned upside down, though, when Elizabeth tragically dies at the hands of one of her father's animatronics. William begins to grow distant, and Christine works to both hold her family together and discover the secrets that William is beginning to obsess over.
1. Chapter 1

"What's going on?" Christine burst through the room's doors, scanning the room frantically as she caught her breath. "William!"

"Mommy!" Jason threw himself into his mother's arms, his face streaked with tears. He sobbed, clutching Christine tightly as she bent down and held him in a tight hug. "It's ok, it's ok. I'm here," Christine said softly, her soft blonde hair settling around Jason's scruffy, brown locks. His wailing melted into quiet sobbing as he clutched his mother's dress, wrinkling its blue folds between his small, sweaty fingers.

"Christine." Christine looked up and noticed her husband, William, sitting at the edge of a stage at the far end of the room. It was Elizabeth's 8th birthday, and so they'd rented out a party room. William had promised to bring one of the animatronics that he and his business partner had been working on for so long. It stood, imposing, on the stage besides William, a huge clown with pigtails and rosy cheeks.

Christine gave Jason a reassuring hug, before getting up and running over to William. A pit in her stomach began to open. Jason's distraught crying, William's frantic call five minutes before, insisting that she drop everything and come. He had been shouting over the phone, and she could hear him banging on the wall from the other side of the line. He never got upset like that, never.

"Where's Elizabeth, where are all the other kids?" The party room was empty, except for her, William, and Jason, who was back by the door, sniffling away tears. "I told them to go home," William said flatly. "They're outside with one of the parents." He rubbed his temple. William stood up, gripping his wife's hands. "Elizabeth is dead."

Christine's face instantly grew pale. She felt like a ghost. She screamed. "Christine!" William grabbed his wife's shoulders, gripping them to somehow reassure her into no longer shouting. "Dead?!" She held her hands over her mouth, shaking her head frantically. "Please, shush!" William blurted out, half under his breath. "Don't scare Jason." Christine whipped hear head around to face her son, standing in the corner, his eyes puffy and red from crying. "Jason, come here!" She said, bending down and opening her arms as he ran into them. _What did he see? Did he see what happened to Elizabeth? Dear god, what happened?_

"What happened?" She asked William, clutching Jason even tighter. He straightened up. "Not now, not with Jason." _Jason… He's so young, he's only six…_

"Jason," Christine said quietly. "I need you to go outside for a few minutes, ok? Mommy and Daddy are gonna be right here, we need to have a mommy and daddy talk. Jason nodded slowly, and inched out of the party room into the hallway, his legs shaking.

As soon as Jason left, William turned around and slammed a fist down onto the stage, "Dammit!" Christine spun around in surprise, tears suddenly welling up in her eyes that she hadn't noticed she was holding back before. "What happened?" She began to sob, unable to hold her emotions back. William lifted a finger and pointed to the animatronic standing lifelessly on the stage. "She… ate her." Christine's blue eyes widened with astonishment and horror. "What do you mean ate?! Animatronics just don't eat people! What did-!"

Christine fell to the ground, her limbs shaking. She looked up to the huge, metallic circus clown, it's dead smile and shining eyes suddenly sending a shiver down her spine. "You said they were safe… You knew they were safe…" She settled her eyes on the tile floor in front of her, unable to look at the thing any longer. "How could this happen?"


	2. Chapter 2

The four family members sat around the diner table, a fifth chair ominously empty. The light hanging over the table sent down a yellowish beam of light, one that sharply scratched at each person's face. The Aftons sat quietly for a few moments, before William finally spoke up. "Elizabeth is dead." Jason began to cry as soon as his father finished speaking, the reminder digging up bad memories from the party, ones that Christine still wasn't quite sure what they were. She scooted her chair out a bit and had him sit on her lap, wiping away his tears with the cuff of her dress.

"What do you mean she's dead?" Micheal said, obviously more confused than anything. "You can't be serious."

"It was an accident, at the birthday party that you were supposed to go to." Micheal slouched down in his chair, crossing his arms at his father's words. "What happened?" Micheal finally asked, looking at the wall. "It was an accident, we're going to have a funeral in a few days."

"You don't have to go to school the next few days if you don't want to," Christine added, knowing that, although Micheal acted nonchalant about it, he was mourning on the inside. "That goes for you too, Jason. You can stay home with me for a few days." Jason nodded wordlessly, still perched on his mother's lap. William looked like he was going to object, but he settled back into his chair.

"We'll take this one day at a time, ok?" Christine said softly, a bit surprised with herself at taking the lead. "It's getting late, why don't we all go to bed for now, and I'll make us breakfast in the morning. How does pancakes sound?" Jason nodded again, while Micheal shrugged. Micheal walked off to his own room, while Christine tucked Jason into bed. She pulled the covers up over his chest, and gave him a kiss on the forehead. "Me and Dad'll be right next door if you need us, ok?" Jason gave a frightened nod, as Christine sat next to him on his bed. She sighed, before getting up and opening the door. "Mommy…" She turned around to see Jason looking at her from his bed, clutching the sheets tightly. "She-she ate her," he stammered. "Like a big mouth." Christine let out a small gasp, strengthening her clutch on the doorknob. "It's ok," she whispered as reassuringly as she could, after a moment. "Just hang on through tonight, then we'll have breakfast, and everything'll be ok."

Christine exited Jason's room, and quietly shut the door behind her. As she walked down the hallway, she began to worry. _If only everything could be ok, just like that. I have to be strong for Micheal and for Jason, but dear god, what happened. _Tears began to slowly drip down her face. _Dear god, Elizabeth's gone._ As Christine walked across the living room towards her and William's bedroom, she noticed the light poking out from under the door of William's office. _Please, not again…_

Christine quietly opened the door, looking up to see William hunched over his desk, a set of blueprints laid out in front of him. "Please don't do this again," she said, moving besides her husband. She reached out with her hand and slid it over his shoulder. "Please just come to bed."

"I can't, not know." William shot back quickly, his eyes scanning the blueprints. "I have to know, I have to-"

"Please, stop." Christine begged. "Last time you did this when your loan for your animatronics was rejected, you stayed locked in this office for weeks! Your children need their father right now, I need my husband. I'm trying to be strong for the kids but I don't know if-"

"Don't you see?" William finally turned to face his wife, his eyes looking desperate. "I messed up, I warned her not to go near it, but I let her- and Jason saw- and I need to get her back- but-." Christine's eyes widened. "Wh-what? You mean you knew that thing was dangerous? Will, tell me what's going on!" William slouched into an old barstool that was sitting by a box of cables and circuitboards. He held his head in his hands as he began to explain to his wife exactly what happened.

"Circus Baby, the animatronic at Elizabeth's birthday party, I made it look like her. It was supposed to be a sort of present: that she had an animatronic that was made for her. Maybe that's why she liked it so much out of all the other ones." William shook his head, rubbing his fingers against his temple. "She- Circus Baby- had a scooper in her. Since she was made to dispense ice cream, I wanted to make something so that it would be easier to get the ice cream into her. It'd scoop it out and hold it in this cooling cavity in her stomach until she'd give it out to kids. The thing is that I haven't gotten the math for the scooper worked out quite yet. It's kept trying to scoop random things with way too much force, some glitches in her programming that I've been trying to track down. I knew that she wasn't quite ready yet but Elizabeth kept begging and begging me to see her, to have her at her birthday party and I couldn't say no to her. I thought that if I jut kept Circus Baby up on stage, keep everyone else off it, then everything would be fine, but Elizabeth went up there anyways, when I wasn't looking. She must've triggered Baby's bugged out programming because, well…"

Christine fell down on her knees, feeling lightheaded. "You- it-" She began to stammer. "Jason saw it, though," William said, getting up and sitting next to his wife on the floor. "He's always gonna remember that his sister got killed by one of my animatronics. What if he tells somebody?"

"Tells somebody..?"

"I told the police it was a freak accident, that she fell, and broke her neck."

"You lied about our daughter dying? Why?" Christine's eyes grew red from another round of freshly flowing tears. "If this gets out, that one of my animatronics killed someone, we can say goodbye to all of the animatronics, forever. Nobody will ever trust me and Henry's company every again."

"I don't care about the company, Will. I just care about us, our family. I'm sure Henry would tell you the same thing, if he were here." William shook his head, getting up. "I have to get Elizabeth back, I have to."

"Please!" Christine grabbed William's hand. "Please just come to bed…" William squeezed his wife's hand, before letting go, moving back over to his work table. "I'll be there in a minute." Christine looked at William sadly, before slowly getting up and heading to their bedroom. _Please… Please just come to bed…_

* * *

"Thanks mom…" Micheal grumbled as Christine handed him a fresh plate of pancakes, topped off with some strawberries and blueberries from the fridge. "Micheal…" She said, "eat your breakfast at the table." She heard him groan and slump into a chair, obviously disappointed at not being allowed to eat in his room. Christine smiled a little, as she poured out a new helping of pancake batter onto the stove. _It's almost like things are normal. Almost._

Christine's smile faded as she set the batter aside. They would have to schedule a service for Elizabeth today, a Sunday. She wanted desperately to hear her daughter's laughter from down the hall, see her smile and wave as the bus took her off to school, feel the warm embrace of her hugs. That would never happen again though.

"Micheal, can you wake up your brother for me?" Christine asked. "His pancakes are almost ready".

"Fiiine," he groaned, getting up and heading towards the hall. "He's such a baby, though. I could hear him crying all night." Christine turned around. "It's okay to cry sometimes!" She exclaimed, facing Micheal. "Especially after what he saw…" she shook her head, pushing away the picture forming in her mind, Elizabeth being sucking into that thing's stomach, with hardly enough space for her to fit. "It's ok to be sad, and scared sometimes, but we need to be thankful for what we have, not whining about it. Especially now, when we…" Micheal turned away from his mother's gaze, keeping his eyes trained shamefully on the floor as he walked down to Jason's bedroom.

Christine sighed, and turned back around to flip the set of pancakes she was baking. She was acting so strong, but, inside, she was terrified and sad. Her hands began to shake as she went to flip the last pancake on the skillet. "Oww!" Christine jumped back, letting her spatula fall to the floor. She held her wrist as she saw a red burn mark begin to appear; she'd accidentally touched the rim of the skillet with her wrist, her hands had been shaking so much. "What's going on?" William burst through the office doorway, his eyes bouncing around the house, wide with fear. Christine grimaced as she saw the bags under her husband's eyes. _He pulled an all-nighter, didn't he? He never came to bed like he said he would. _"It's alright," Christine exhaled, picking up the spatula that she had dropped. "I just burned myself on breakfast, I'm fine." William sighed with relief, making his way into the kitchen. "Thank god," he said "I thought that…"

"Thought that what?"

"Nevermind." William went up behind his wife and wrapped his hands around her waist, giving her a reassuring hug as she finished flipping the last pancake. "You didn't come to bed last night," Christine said, putting her spatula down on the counter. "You can always tell, can't you?" he asked wearily. She nodded. "You're usually up before I am, but you always have those bags under your eyes when you stay up all night." William rubbed his eyes, stepping away from his wife. "You're right, caught me red-handed."

"What am I going to do with you?" She asked, scooping the pancakes off the stove and stacking them on a plate for Jason. As she piled on a handful of berries to the pancakes, William spoke up. "I'm going to go over to the complex across the street, check on the funtime animatronics, check on Baby." Christine turned around, holding the finished breakfast plate. "You shouldn't be around those things, not for a while, especially not the Circus Baby one." She clenched her fists as she thought of William being near the thing that killed Elizabeth, the thing that killed her just yesterday. She shook her head, concentrating to stop from crying. "Besides, we need to schedule a service, and I don't know if I could do it."

"Don't worry, I'll call the funeral home, but it'll be a bit different without- without a body." William exited the kitchen and headed towards the door. "Wait!" Christine called after him. "What about breakfast, what about-"

"It's fine!" William called back quickly as he grabbed his coat. "I don't want you to-!" Christine's protests were cut short with the shutting of the front door.

"Mommy?" Christine turned around as Jason walked into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes. "Hi sweetheart, did you sleep well last night?" He shook his head. "Aw, too bad. You must still be tired." She handed him the plate of pancakes that she had just finished making. "Here, why don't we all eat breakfast together?" Jason went and sat at the table with Micheal, who had just come back from waking up his younger brother. Christine quickly made herself a bowl of yogurt and fruit, before sitting down with her two boys. She sighed, as she looked down at her breakfast. The table felt so empty without Elizabeth, without William. Breakfast was uncharacteristically silent as the three ate. Even on a slow Sunday morning there should have been laughing, talking, anything but silence.

Both boys eventually retreated to their rooms, leaving Christine on her own in the dining room. She held her hands to her head, looking down at her half-finished bowl of yogurt. She wasn't even hungry, really, she was just eating out of routine more than anything else. Pushing away the bowl, Christine leaned back in her chair, feeling tears begin to well up in her eyes again. She began to cry, quietly, trying to not to disturb Micheal or Jacob. Elizabeth was dead, but she couldn't stop crying. She was a mess, an emotional mess that could hardly stop from crying. She wished desperately to hold William's hand, hold him tight to her body and be comforted by his presence. With him around, everything always seemed like it would turn out. Where she was emotional he was clear-headed and where he was cold she was warm. She just wished desperately that he wouldn't drift away, not again.

* * *

The rest of the day passed by uneventfully. Christine sat in the living room, reading some of her old beauty and lifestyle magazines, since she usually did cleaning on weekdays, when the kids were at school. She played with Jason in his room a bit, and checked in on Micheal, who was nose-deep in a comic book. She could tell that he didn't want to talk, so she let him be. Christine sat back into the living room recliner, in front of the tv. She reached down to the basket of magazines sitting besides the chair. She blindly pulled out one of William's magazines: "Nuts, Bolts, and Hairpins." She had tried to look at some of his type of work before, with robotics, computer, and the like, but Christine could never get into it. Those sorts of things never really seemed to click with her like they did with William. He was so passionate about his animatronics, she couldn't help but admire him for that. She began to casually flip through the magazine's pages, scanning articles about the future of technology, the newest computers, ads for robot parts and motors, and an interview with a robotics engineer. Christine carefully placed the magazine back in with the rest of the stack, and got up, heading for the kitchen. It was five o-clock, and time to get dinner started.

Christine reached into the fridge, pulling out a styrofoam container of ground beef. She set the meat aside and turned the stove on. Thank goodness she had gone shopping on Thursday. She couldn't imagine going out grocery shopping, not after what just happened to Elizabeth. She couldn't bear leaving the house, not now.

* * *

"Dinner's ready!" Christine called down the hall, as she set out cheese, salsa, and taco shells on the kitchen counter. "Thanks, Mom!" Micheal burst into the kitchen, grabbing a plate from one of the cabinets and hastily scooping as many toppings as he could cram into his taco shell. Just as quickly as he came in, the fifteen year old whipped around and headed for the hallway. "Hey mister!" She called, knowing that he was trying to make a b-line for his room. "Diner table." Micheal let out a disappointed grunt, but sat down at the table without protest. "Is it tacos?" Christine smiled as she watched Jacob trot down the hallway and come into the kitchen. "Yup, one of your favorites!"

"It smells yummy!"

"Here, let me help you." Christine grabbed Jacob a plate, and pulled out two taco shells from their box. "How much meat do you want?"

"A lot! With lots of cheese, too!"

"A lot? Ok, but not too much, you might get sick from eating too much all at once." Jacob nodded happily as Christine handed him his plate of tacos. "How about some milk, for both of you?"

"Sure."

"Yea!"

* * *

"Hey Mom?"

"Yes?"

"Why don't we have, you know, like taco Tuesday? On a Tuesday?" Christine smiled at the dinner table. A bit of life was returning to the house. It would never go back to the way it used to be, not with Elizabeth gone, Christine admitted, but this was a start. "Well it'd get pretty boring if you had the same seven things for dinner every week. Wouldn't you rather mix it up?"

"I guess." Micheal shrugged, in the middle of eating an overstuffed taco, bits of meat and cheese spilling out of the edges as he took each bite. He gulped down a mouthful of taco before speaking. "Thanks for making dinner," he blurted out quickly. Christine smiled. She always had to remind Micheal to say please and thank you, so it was nice to finally hear him say it on his own.

* * *

Christine washed the dishes in the kitchen as Micheal and Jacob watched tv in the living room. She half-listened to the game-show that was on as she faced away from the living room, scrubbing the dishes in the sink. She dried off a plate with a towel, then set it aside on the drying rack. "Can I buy an 'a?'" She reached down into the sink to grab another plate, wiping away the bits of stubborn meat and salsa with her dish soap-soaked sponge. "Correct! There are two 'a's!" Christine picked up a fistful of forks, and stroked them with her sponge, quickly making sure to cover them with soap before washing them down. "Can I have a 'w'?" She washed the sponge out, setting aside the newly clean, but still wet forks beside the sink with the rest of the dishes. "I'd like to solve: 'a walk in the woods.'"

"Correct! We have a winner here folks! That'll be an extra three thousand dollars to her total winnings, we'll see if she can stay on ahead and keep a hold of those winnings, right after the break!"

"Dad's home!" Christine perked up, grabbing a towel and drying off her hands as she quickly strode out of the kitchen, just in time to see William hanging up his coat. "Hi kids," he said, as he shut the door behind him. Christine frowned. Something sounded off about William, almost like he'd seen something that he shouldn't have. "I'm sorry that we didn't wait for you to have dinner, but I didn't know when you'd be home." He raised his hand behind him as he headed across the living room and to his office. "It's fine," we can eat together later. She frowned. Something wasn't right with her husband.

Christine quickly pulled together a cold taco from the leftovers, and followed William into his office with it. "Here," she said, handing him the plate. He hesitated for a second, before taking it. "Thanks."

"I'm guessing you haven't eaten today yet?" She asked, already knowing his answer. "No, didn't have time." Christine turned to watch William hunched over a few set of blueprints at his worktable, just like last night. Christine watched him. His voice sounded flat, she realized, like he was only half-listening to everything, like he didn't really seem to care about any of it. "Did you organize the funeral?" She asked, after a few long moments of silence. "It's set for Wednesday at 11:00."

"Thank you." Christine stood awkwardly besides William for another few, long moments. It felt like she wasn't even there to him.

"What happened, Will? Somethings not right with you." He didn't reply, he just stood hunched over the blueprints at his desk. "Did you go see that Circus Baby animatronic, like I asked you not to do? Did you talk to Henry? Did he say something?"

"I need to get some stuff from the shed." William quickly exited the office, leaving Christine and his dinner behind. Christine sighed. He must have seen that clown animatronic, it must have freaked him out. _That's so odd of him, though,_ Christine thought. _He's usually so level-headed, almost nothing can get to him._ Christine sighed, and skimmed his work bench. She moved a bit closer, and picked up one of the blueprints. Although she wasn't good with schematics, she recognized the general shape of Circus Baby, meticulously traced out in white lines on the blue paper. Christina looked down and glanced at the other three schematics laid out on the table. She'd only seen William's animatronics a few times before, but she was pretty sure that each one had a schematic in this pile. She set down the blueprint that she had been holding, and let out a sigh. Maybe scheduling the funeral, having to really face that Elizabeth was gone, maybe it shook him up, made him start acting strangely.

"What's that?" Christine asked, as William returned to the office, holding a long tube with a strap on it. "It's for carrying the blueprints, so that they don't get all bent out of shape. I don't have any over at the complex."

"You're going back, right now?" The blonde-haired woman was astonished. Was he seriously going to try to pull a second all nighter? "I can't have you falling into this trap again," Christine said half-frantically as William carefully rolled up the blueprints. "I need to get some more work done, I need to check some things."

"I don't care if you need to do any of that, it can wait until tomorrow. I know that you want to make sure that that Circus Baby animatronic is safe as soon as possible, especially after what happened to…" She took in a few deep breaths to control herself before continuing, as William slid the set of schematics into their carrier. "I told you, I need to do this." Christine grabbed her husband's hand, feeling its warmth as she held it. "I know, but please, just come to bed." She thought for a second as William slowly began to pull himself away from her. "You'll make mistakes if your tired, it your hungry. You can't fix anything if you're like that." The couple locked eyes for a second, both searching for each other in them. It looked for a few moments like William was going to leave anyways, but he sighed. "Alright," he said, "I'll stay."

"Thank goodness," Christine said, reaching out and embracing William in a hug. He slowly set aside the canister with the blueprints in it, and wrapped his arms around his wife. She pressed herself into William, comforted by his presence, but worry still nagged at the back of her mind. William was going down the rabbit hole, and she desperately wished for a way to stop it.


	3. Chapter 3

Funeral music softly played as the priest finished his closing words. Christine shivered. The music sounded empty and haunting, like it was meant for someone much bigger than herself. She held her hands below her sides, watching the priest close his book and step down from the podium at the front of the church. She reached out to William besides her, searching for the certainty of his hand between the folds of his pressed suit and her long black dress. She found it, clasping her fingers around his, scooting a bit closer to his stable shoulders. Christine slowly lifted her other hand up to her face, dabbing away half-dried tears with a tissue that had gotten more and more wrinkled as the memorial service had gone on.

"Mommy, do we go now?" Jason asked quietly from the pew as the priest and the alter servers began to walk down the aisle. Christine nodded, and beckoned him and Micheal out of the front pew to begin following them out of the church. As she and William exited the pew behind their remaining children, William reached up and held onto his wife's shoulders from behind, squeezing them in reassurance. Christine silently thanked him as the Afton family quietly exited their daughter's memorial service, friends and family giving regretful glances from their seats in the church, all mourning the sudden death of Elizabeth.

Everything seemed surreal. Despite Elizabeth being dead, Christine still found herself searching for her presence in the Afton home. In the few days between her death and now, she had caught herself turning the corner, expecting to see her daughter skipping down the hallway. She had to stop herself from setting out an extra plate at dinner, from waiting in apprehension as Elizabeth ran to her mother, asking for help with her hair bow. As much as Christine wanted to cry and mourn endlessly for her lost daughter, she knew that sooner or later their world would have to go on living. Better now than never.

The Aftons all stood quietly around a gravestone at the edge of the cemetery. The newly-placed stone stood quietly among the swaying grass and the soft leaves of a nearby tree. The gravestone read: "In loving memory of Elizabeth Afton. 1973 to 1981."

"Mom… Can we head back to the car?" Micheal spoke up after a few long moments of silence. Christine nodded. She found it in herself to understand his impatience, despite the circumstances. "Me and Dad will be there in a minute," she said, as Micheal and Jason headed for the car parked off the side of one of the gravel paths.

With the kids gone, Christine turned her tear-streaked face slightly to look at William. He hadn't said a thing since the memorial service. It hurt her to see their daughter's death impact him so much. It hurt everyone. Christine reached out and gripped his hand. It was firm and well worn, like it always had been, ever since high school. But, as she looked into William's eyes, she only saw a far off look. It was like he was staring through the ground, through everything. He was disconnected, the world was separate from him. There was still that same determination in his eyes, though, the determination she had been seeing more and more of in the past few days. It was like a force, stirring deep below the surface. She only wish that she knew exactly what it was.

* * *

"Goodbye kids!" Christine waved goodbye as Jason and Micheal climbed onto the school bus that stopped at the end of their driveway. It was Thursday, the day after the service, and she had finally made the kids go to school. They had grumbled between mouthfuls of cereal at breakfast, but hadn't given much of a fuss other than that. The bus door closed, and began heading down the street. Christine smiled from the end of the driveway as Jason waved an energetic goodbye from the bus window. After a few moments, she let out a breath of air. Things were starting to get back to normal. They were settling into their routine, even though it hurt without Elizabeth. Christine gave the now far-off bus a final glance before turning around and walking back up the long, secluded driveway back to the house.

Christine's flats clicked quietly against the pavement, and the surrounding trees swayed and rustled. A muted blue sky was slowly lightening as morning crept in. She had always enjoyed walking the kids down to the school bus each morning. They would gobble down their last bits of breakfast, laugh, talk, complain- everything kids were supposed to do. _See? It's going to be ok,_ Christine tried to reassure herself.

Christine rounded the corner to the house. She stepped up the front door and stepped inside.

"William?" Christine was surprised to see William making his way across the living room towards the door. "I didn't know you were up." She said, uneasiness creeping into her voice as she saw him trying to situate something in the crook of his arm. "Is that a… sleeping bag?"

"…Yes," William answered plainly. "You aren't planning to sleep in the complex, are you?" She asked, anxiously, looking at William. There were deep bags under his eyes, and his hair looked unkempt. Stubble covered his face, and it looked like he hadn't been eating. After a moment, William tried to step past Christine, but she moved to block his way. "You can't do this, not now," she asserted. "I need to work on this," he responded gruffly.

"What are you going to do, live there?!" Christine exclaimed. "Live with your robots in that bunker across the street when you have a family here at home?"

"I told you, I need to do this," he said again, beginning to push her aside. Christine grabbed onto his arm as he tried to move past her. "Nothing can replace Elizabeth," she said sternly, mustering up strength within herself. "It's something I know and something I thought I shouldn't have to be telling you, of all people. There are still people back home for you, though; a family that needs you." Her voice began to rise, and Christine felt emotion begin to well up in the back of her throught and spill out of her eyes. "You can't just get so consumed in this to turn your back on us in some half-baited effort to get back what you lost." Christine's words broke up into sobbing. She bent her head down, clenching William even tighter than before. If she held on to him for long enough, maybe he could understand. "As much as I'd love to, as quickly as I'd give myself up for her sake, Elizabeth isn't coming back."

William quietly set down the sleeping bag. Hope jumped into Christine's chest as he brought her close to him, holding her head to his chest. She closed her eyes, letting her hair settle into the folds of his wrinkled, button down shirt. She reached around his waist and hugged him, feeling his sturdy presence. _Maybe now you'll stay. Just stay here with us. _

William let go of his wife, stepped back, and retrieved the sleeping bag that he had set aside. A sinking feeling, an emptiness, seeped into Christine as he stepped past her and into the entryway. He hesitated for a brief moment but, without looking back, opened the door, and headed down the long driveway and then, undoubtedly, towards the complex, that gapping structure within the earth that, now, Christine was sure would swallow him whole.


	4. Chapter 4

The loud, annoying hum of a vacuum filled Christine's ears, drowning out most of her thoughts. Still, William kept creeping into her mind. She felt like she was trying to distract herself, not quite sure what to do. No, not even that. Christine stopped running over the living room carpet with the vacuum cleaner. She knew what she needed to do, she just wasn't quite sure how to do it.

_How can I reach him,_ Christine asked herself. _Whenever he sets his mind to something he's sure to get it done, even if it kills him_. She unplugged the vacuum cleaner, and wheeled it down the hallway to a closet by Jason's bedroom. She slid it into place besides boxes of old books and clothes and a rack of cleaning supplies. Her hands slid up against the clammy door handle as she shut the closet door. Her hand remained clenched around its metal form as she thought. _It's like I'm suddenly scared to mess up, to mess up something big. _Christine lifted her hands from the door's surface, and let out a sigh of air. She would have to do something, anything, to reach out to him. Even if the chances were remote, maybe, just maybe, he would reach out his hand in return.

Christine walked into the kitchen and looked up at the clock: 11:00. "Lunchtime," she said out loud, as she got to work whipping up a few sandwiches. _What am I doing moping around the house? _She asked herself as she layered on slices of ham and cheese onto the bread. _I can't just stand around as this family falls apart. Even if I cry and be sad and know that things are never going to be the same, I at least have to try, right?_

* * *

Christine glanced both ways before crossing the street, her blonde hair bobbing up and down as she quickly walked across the pavement, brown paper bag held tightly in her hands. Usually the road was pretty empty; there wasn't much else besides the occasional house along the long, winding two-lane road. Still, it was best to be careful. She walked down another asphalt driveway, opposite the house. It quickly spilled out onto a small parking lot, enough for half a dozen cars. Seeing it empty though, she realized that William was the only one there.

A small metal building stood pressed up against the edge of pavement. Christine unlocked the door and stepped inside. William always kept a spare key in their room, and she was glad that she had remembered where it was. William would have never left in unlocked otherwise; his life's work was behind the building's doors.

Light from two small windows spilled into the small room, illuminating an industrial-looking elevator shaft. It almost looked like the building had been build around the elevator, not the other way around. Christine let out a breath of air, before pressing a large red button besides the elevator door. A distant buzzing sounded as the elevator slowly climbed up its shaft to meet her. As Christine waited, she resituated the lunchbag in her hands. This place always made her a little uneasy. That impression had stuck with her even though she'd only been here once before. It had been build about a year ago, as a complex to house William's animatronics. Henry, ever the financier, had questioned the need for such a place, but William had assured him it would all pay off in the end, once everyone saw how great the animatronics were, how safe and well-cared for. She glanced around her as the humming of the elevator slowly became louder. Everything felt new, manufactured. A place that snuffed out every bit of natural light and sense of time was bound to be a bad thing. Still, as long as William came home at the end of every day, and she knew that he was following his dreams, she was happy, content that both her and William were getting what they wanted. She wondered now if she should have put up a bigger fuss.

"Beep." The elevator settled into place with a soft clank, its doors neatly parting a moment later. Christine stepped inside, surprised to hear a muffled, upbeat melody emanating from some unseen speaker. She smiled as the doors closed and the elevator began to descend. She recalled telling William he needed to lighten up the place, maybe put in some music. She had said the last part half-jokingly, not sure how much of a difference some music could make, but it warmed her to know that William had valued her opinion. She could tell that he had built this place with only the bare necessities, even if he hadn't really noticed until it was finished.

"Beep." The elevator sounded again as it reached the bottom of the shaft. White, fluorescent light illuminated a crawlspace just outside the elevator. "William," Christine grumbled, as she bent down into the mouth of the duct. "It would have been nice if you'd made an actual hallway instead of a glorified air-vent." _No use complaining now,_ she thought to herself as she crawled along the long, poorly-lit crawlspace. The paneling below her deformed slightly as she moved, wobbling in and out of place noisily as she scooted along. It didn't help that she was wearing a dress and a pair of flats. "I should remember to switch into a pair of tennis shoes next time I come down here…"

Christine was met with more surgical lighting that buzzed at the edges of her ears as she made her way to the end of the crawlspace. She hopped out onto the tile floor. Looking around, she began to recognize the room from when she had seen it before. Back then, the complex was still being finished, the floor tile still being laid. William's robots had all been half-finished, waiting to be completed in the corner of his workroom at home. Christine shivered. Back then, without their child-friendly outsides, they had looked like skeletons.

Christine stepped up to her right, besides a small podium with a set of buttons on it. It looked out over a partially glass wall, which itself looked out over a large, darkened room. The other side of the room she was in looked the same, and opposite the crawlspace a huge fan was built into the wall, adding to the hum that the entire room seemed to emanate. A few doll-faces and a mask had been stuck haphazardly around the room. She assumed that they had been prototypes that William had attempted to 'redecorate' the place with. Usually he was spot on with making cute, lovable characters. Even if they did look a bit off to the parents, the kids were always sure to love them. Since no kid would obviously be coming down here, though, so much less thought had been put into the decorations.

Christine glanced down at the podium again. "Hmm," she voiced to herself, trying to decipher the sun and lightning bolt shaped symbols on the two buttons. She hesitated for a moment, before pressing the sun. The button lit up orangish-yellow, and a bright light lit up from within what she could best describe as a viewing room. She was surprised to see one of the animatronics on stage, partially dismantled. It startled her slightly, and so she lifted her finger off of the button. The room went dark again. "I thought Will was finished with all of the animatronics," she said, turning on the light again. The pink and white fox character stared lifelessly forward, its arms limp at its sides and its mouth opened slightly in a grin. "Foxy, was it?" Christine asked herself, drawing her attention to the machine's exposed chest cavity. Layers of its outside had been removed to reveal a thick frame of wires and beams. They wrapped around what looked like some sort of speaker in the machine's chest, which itself had a few missing parts. _Is Micheal doing some last-minute updates? That can't possibly be what he's been so worried about. I thought he was just focused on making sure that the animatronics were safe- and just the Baby one at that._ The blonde-haired woman lifted her fingers off the button, letting the adjacent room go dark. "How can a speaker be dangerous?"

Christine stepped back, and turned her attention to the other window. It too was dark, but she stepped up next to its corresponding podium and clicked on the lights. "It looks like each animatronic has their own room," she said to herself as the spotlight illuminated another robot. "Oh!" A blue and white ballerina stood motionless on top of a bare-bones stage, just like the other animatronic had in its own room. A small smile parted Christine's lips. She knew that William had made this animatronic for her, like he had made the clown one for Elizabeth.

Looking at its pink tutu, plasticky sculpted bun, she couldn't help but think back to high school, when her and William were dating. She had loved ballet, it was her dream to make it big one day as a ballerina, wow the world with her graceful dances. But alas, she had decided to give it up by the end of high school. She still did a bit in college, but after William and her graduated, things like that went to the wayside. William knew that she had given up that hope when the two of them decided to settle down and start a family together. It warmed her heart that he would try to say thank you, even if it was in an unconventional way.

"I don't remember which one you're called," she said to the motionless animatronic, its blue hair and bright pink tutu shining against the fluorescent spotlight, "but thank you." Christine pulled her hand off of the large button, letting the room go dark again. She turned her attention to the far wall, the one covered by a large fan. A white and red clown mask was mounted above the fan's metal frame, almost like a trophy. The housewife didn't pay much mind to it, getting down on her hands and knees again as she climbed into another vent directly below the fan.

"Circus gallery vent open." Christine's heart nearly jumped out of her chest. She hadn't expected to hear a motion detector go off down here, especially one that announced its presence with some half-baked, robotic female voice. Christine grumbled to herself, as she continued to shimmy along the duct, continuing to make just as much noise as before. She was sure that she was safe but still, tight, creepy places never mixed well with her. Not to say that the complex was creepy it was just… How could she put it? _It's like it doesn't have a soul._

Christine reached the end of the crawlspace, managing to clamber out of it and straighten up into yet another room. She quickly realized that this was where William was spending all of his time. The sleeping bag from before had been shoved into a corner along with what seemed like a mountain of wires, tools, and metal. It looked like a twister had picked up the contents of William's workshop from home and dumped them down here.

Christine carefully stepped over a set of wrenches haphazardly strewn across the tile floor and to a large control panel looking out over yet another observation room. The lights were already on this time, and Christine could see the huge Circus Baby animatronic sitting on the floor. The plates covering its stomach had been peeled away, and hovering over them she could see William prodding at the scooper that stuck awkwardly out of the machine's insides, the thing that killed Elizabeth.

"William?" It was a bit hard to see, and she couldn't hear anything through the glass, but she could tell William was transfixed. He hunched over the animatronic, his hands expertly working each tool as he glided between steps in some complex process known only to him. She could see his mouth moving, too, like he was talking to the animatronic. Although it was a bit hard to make out his face, Christine could distinctly see two pinprick reflections in his eyes, determination and focus shining through them even from a room away. Would that determination ever burn out, or would it take hold of him like a host, driving him away from his home and his family until he was so alien that no-one recognized him?

Christine looked down at the control panel laid out in front of her, not wanting to see any more of that animatronic clown that William seemed to be caring for more than his family. A few stray bolts sat wedged between the two dozen buttons and latches that covered the panel. She began to brush them away to the lip at the bottom of the panel's face, when she noticed what looked like a blueprint, rolled up and sitting wedged between the top of the panel and the glass of the observation room. She retrieved it, slowly peeling it open. It looked like one of the blueprints that Christine had seen before, one that William had tried taking down here a few days ago. She sighed disapprovingly. _So he did bring them down here after all. _On top of the neatly printed white text and schematics, William had gone over and scratched out parts, written over them and scratched out those ones too. The entire blueprint was slightly wrinkled from the many layers of drawing, erasing, and scratching out he seemed to have done. "This is… 'Funtime Foxy,' right?" Christine located the animatronic's name in the top corner of the blueprint, just about the only spot that hadn't been written over and modified.

Christine held the blueprint close to her face, then stretched the paper farther away, trying unsuccessfully to make any sense of all the changes William had made. _He should have printed out a new copy ages ago, this entire paper is a mess!_ Christine sighed, trying one more time to decipher anything from the blue sheet of paper. Even though the whole sheet was a mess, she noticed a lot of arrows had been drawn out pointing at the animatronic's head and chest. There were a few short notes scattered across the page, written in the most random of places. She squinted at each one, turning the paper sideways and upside down, cursing her own inability to read her husband's indecipherable handwriting.

Christine played a guessing game with the blueprint for a bit longer, before finally noticing something that she though she could make out. "Parental voice sync?"

Christine was utterly confused. Had she read that right? Was that why the fox's speaker was half-put together? Christine squinted at the paper, reading the phrase over and over again, still just as confused. "Why in the world would an entertainer animatronic need a voice sync speaker for?"

Christine almost ripped the blueprint in half when she jumped at the sound of someone crawling through the vent-way from the observation room. This entire place was off-putting, which was also why she'd only come down here once before. She smoothed her nerves enough to quickly roll the blueprint back up and sit it on the control panel before seeing William crawl out from the crawlspace next to the control panel. "Christine," he said, as he lifted himself up to his feet. "What in the world are you doing down here?" His voice was mostly surprised, but Christine thought she could sense a note of annoyance and even worry in his tone. "I came down to check on you." She retrieved the brown paper bag that she had brought with her. "I also brought lunch."

"Thanks," William replied, as Christine handed him the bag. "I got you two sandwiches and a bottle of water. Unless you made some design changes since I was last here, there isn't a drinking fountain down here."

"No," her husband said frankly, opening up the bag and checking its contents. "I never intended to be spending this much time down her." William pulled out the water bottle, casting the two sandwiches aside as he quickly twisted off the cap. "How is everyone," he asked casually, right before downing a huge gulp of water. Christine was slightly taken aback by the question. _Aren't you going to come see yourself? _

"The kids are fine," Christine replied. She observed the creased bags under his eyes, unkempt face, every unfortunate detail only magnified by the room's harsh lighting. "Jason asked to read with you last night, when you were down here." Christine squinted slightly, a disapproving tone in her voice. "I had to tell him that you were busy."

"I have to get this done," William said, his own eyes tightening slightly. "And when will you be done?" Christine pressed, balling her hands up into fists besides her. "I don't know," he said. Christine sighed, releasing the tight grip on her hands. She didn't know how to press further. William was always so good at staying composed, despite the situation. Her eyes drifted to the viewing room, where Circus Baby was undoubtedly sitting, waiting to be worked on for who-knows how long. Christine knew that her family couldn't wait forever, though. A family couldn't just be turned on and off again when it was convenient, like a robot could. If you left both for long enough though, they would each rot away in their own way.

"You can't keep making modifications to the robots forever," Christine said, her voice sounding far off as she continued to stare through the glass. She heard the wrinkling of William's shirt as he stiffened up slightly. "I have to make sure that all of the robots are safe," he quickly said. Christine's focus drifted to the blueprint that she had set back on top of the control panel. As she watched it, something clicked in her head. "I thought you said that only Circus Baby was unsafe. All the other animatronics were fine and ready to go." William took a step closer to her. "Yes, but I want to double check that they're all safe."

"Why would you need to make modifications to a speaker for one of the robots to be safer?" Christine reached out for the blueprint with one of her hands, wanting to ask William about all of the modifications he was seemingly making. William quickly grabbed the blueprint before she could reach it. Christine turned her head around to face William, seeing the blueprint wrinkling even more as he tightly gripped it in his hand. "It's a safety precaution," he said quickly. Both stood in silence for a few long moments, both either not wanting or not daring to speak.

"I know that the past week has been hard on you and the kids. It's been hard on me, too." William finally spoke. Both partners slowly met each other's gaze. "But this something I have to do."

"Something even more important than our family?" William remained quiet. "It's something just as important," he finally said. "All I know, Christine, is that our family isn't whole without everyone there, without Elizabeth."

"All you need to do is come home, we can try to make things better, Will." William stepped up to Christine, gripping her hands in his. The blueprint that he had been holding crumpled up even more, pressed between their fingers. "I can't stand being home, knowing that my creations are the reason Elizabeth got taken. All the while…" he drifted off, loosening his grip slightly.

Christine lent over and kissed William, holding tightly onto his hands. The stubble on his face was itchy, but she still leaned in. He tensed slightly, but then relaxed. After a few long moments, broken only by the faint hum of the lights and the distant fan, she pulled away. "Haven't being with your robots taught you anything? Do I need to try to convince you with some scientific logic? It's easier to fix something that's broken, right? Than to go try and make an entirely new one?"

"Usually," William responded. "See? We need you at home. We aren't a family without you, and you want to protect your family, right? You said it yourself." William nodded. "I do."

"Then do one small thing, and come back for diner, ok? You can tell Jason and Micheal about the robots for all I care, just try and be there."

"Ok. For you, and for the kids, I'll be there." Christine smiled as William pulled away from her. _Am I really getting to him? Is it working? _Christine stepped away, waving as she headed back for the crawlspace. She glanced behind her for a moment as she crouched down, seeing William climbing back into the observation room. She let out a breath of air as she began to climb her way back through the vent. _This is good, this is going to go well. Just take it one step at a time. First dinner, then breakfast, then bed, then playing with the kids, helping with homework… _

The possibility of a life back on track couldn't help but roll out in front of Christine like a red carpet. It would be hard, and at first she though it would be impossible, but with William agreeing to come back for dinner… "Circus gallery vent open." Christine quickly slipped from the first vent into the second, and made her way into the elevator. Still, as she moved out of the complex worries and thoughts began to lap at the edges of her mind, things that she had overlooked in her determination to get William to come back home. _Why is he trying to hide all of these modifications from me? Is something else going on?_


	5. Chapter 5

"Hello, Henry?" Christine held the receiver next to her ear, the rest of the phone situated neatly on her lap. "Hi Mrs. Afton! Do you need my dad?" A young voice broke through the other side of the line, and Christine quickly recognized the voice of Henry's daughter. "Charlie, how did you know?" Christine chirped, putting on a phone-call-smile. "I've got spooky ninja skills!" Charlie exclaimed playfully, right before she gave some muffled shouts for her father. Christine resituated the receiver in her hand, quietly gliding her fingers down its plastic form. "Christine, is that you? It's good to finally hear from you." She relaxed a bit as she heard Henry's worn but familiar voice. "Same for you Henry, how have you been?"

"It's been going a bit slow since the memorial service. Hey, did you get my message?"

"Yes, thank you so much for leaving your condolences. I'm sorry that we weren't able to get back to you, it's just I haven't had time with Will and the kids"

"Oh god, what did he do now?" Christine sensed Henry stifling a sigh from the other end of the line. "How much did Will tell you?" She asked, hoping to find some answers for her husband's behavior in his business partner. "You and I both know that William's a pretty private man and I don't like to pry," Henry said carefully. Christine sighed, and clenching the receiver harder in her hand. "Please Henry, I don't know quite what's going on with Will, but something isn't right. It's just like the flip of a coin and he's suddenly obsessed with the robots." She rubbed her temple with her free hand, tensing more into the chair. "I just hoped that maybe you could give me some insight from a different perspective, since you're always with him at work." Henry sighed again. "I'd really rather not know but, just tell me what's going on."

Christine went over everything that had happened in the last week: Elizabeth, the animatronics, Jason, Will's sudden obsessive commitment to the animatronics. She had to stop herself a few times before she got too emotional. The line was silent for a few moments after she finished, but Henry finally spoke up. "I'm so sorry to hear about all this Christine, I really am. I'm not sure what help I can be, though, it seems like he won't listen to anyone at this point."

"I know, and I don't know what to do about it. It's turning me into a mess, too. One minute I'm convinced I have him back on my side and the next I'm sure everything's falling apart. It's like I'm dancing around two complete opposites." Christine sagged her shoulders, leaning back into the living room armchair, like she was hoping for some kind of hug from it. "You know how Will always likes to have everything in nice neat boxes, wrap everything up in a bow?" A small smile parted Christine's lips. "You could say that again. Remember that one time in college when he pulled an all-nighter without even realizing it, all because he couldn't solve that one stupid calculus problem?" She chuckled. "Do I need reminding? He always does enjoy "having all his ducks in a row," so to speak."

"Listen," Henry said. "I'm so sorry about Elizabeth, but maybe this is just his way of coping. Next time I see him I'll let him know that you and I are both worried about him, alright?"

"Thanks, Henry."

"No problem. I'd go down to that complex myself, but by the way you're describing him it might be better if I wait until he's gotten himself together!"

"Bye."

"Talk to you soon."

Christine set down the receiver, and put the phone back down on the table. Henry's laugh was refreshing to hear, and he was right, too. William had always had a different way of dealing with things. Will never left any project unfinished, even if it meant obsessing over something for days or even weeks at a time. He had always kept each aspect of his life apart, though. Work rarely crossed paths with home, and although he was proud of both, each got the time it deserved. For Christine everything felt like a bit of an organized chaos. Some things were perfect and orderly but other times her emotions would pull her into half a dozen different directions. Her emotions were a part of who she was and she recognized now that that strange separation and obsession was part of who William was, too.

Who was she kidding. She had always know it was there, just like her tangled mess of emotions. She just didn't have to face it until know.

As Christine sat in the the living room armchair, she heard the faint noise of a key fitting into the front door lock, and the door quickly swung open. For a moment she thought that it might be William, but she was still happy to be met with the faces of Jason and Micheal running through the doorway. "Mom, Mom!" Jason ran ahead of his older brother, waving a paper in front of Christine's face. "Look, look! I got an 'A' on my homework last week!" She beamed, leaning down to inspect the red 'A' written at the top of her son's paper. "Whoa, that's fantastic!" She stood back up. "Do you want to stick it up on the fridge?"

"Yea!" Jason quickly ran into the kitchen, clutching his homework like a badge of honor.

Christine turned to face Micheal. "You're not saying much, how was school?"

"It was fine," Micheal shrugged. "I just have a bunch of homework from the days I missed."

"You can get set up on the kitchen table if you need to, I'll have Jason do it too." Micheal groaned as the both of them walked into the kitchen. "Does he have to?"

"Yes, he has to," She reassured him. "I thought you'd be wanting to spend more time with him?"

"Not really. I mean I know he's my brother and all but he's embarrassing! He's running around flaunting his homework grade like it's the best thing ever."

"Well you were like that too once, when you were his age. Everything means the world to you when you're little, and everything has a straightforward answer." Jason put down his backpack next to the table and slumped down across from Jason, who was starting to pull his workbook out.

Christine went over and sat next to Jason. "I just want you boys to remember to take care of each other, ok? Even if you don't get along all the time." Micheal scooted his chair in and pulled out his own homework. "Ok, ok," he conceded. "Wonderful," Christine smiled. "Now that that's sorted out, Jason, what do we have to do first?" Jason flipped to a page in his workbook with a bright blue bookmark sticking out of it. "I just gotta do these two pages for tomorrow, and I need to read my science book."

"Great, why don't you get started? I'll be right here if you get stuck, ok?" Jason smiled. "Got it!"

Christine watched as Jason filled out his workbook, and glanced up a few times to make sure that Micheal was doing his own homework. It was relaxing, really, to just be with the kids. That's why she could spend hours with them. Yes an angry kid could be tiring, but you were always right in their eyes. Every problem was, in reality, a small inconvenience that you would undoubtedly laugh about tomorrow. With kids you wouldn't have to pay attention to the real world or your own problems.

Christine stood up. "I'll be right back." She walked down the hall and into the bathroom, leaning into the mirror. _I need to figure out what in the world I'm doing. I can't keep jumping back and forth like this, like I've always done. _Christine chuckled. _At least Will makes a plan and sticks to it._ Christine studied her fingers as she leaned over the sink, her eyes eventually drawn to her wedding ring. _Alright, no more avoiding things, no more hoping everything will turn out ok. _She straightened up slightly, looking to her reflection. "If Will doesn't come home tonight, I will put this family back together."


	6. Chapter 6

Christine sat with the boys at the kitchen table, checking her wristwatch what felt like every few seconds. "Mom, how much longer are we gonna wait for Dad? My food's getting cold," Micheal complained. Christine let out one long, disheartened sigh. "Alright, you can start eating." Both the boys' faces instantly lit up, and both began to dig into dinner. She slowly reached for her fork, hoping that maybe if she was slow enough William would show up before she started eating. _He told me he'd come. _She ate the chicken and mashed potatoes that she'd cooked earlier, taking small bites to prolong her meal as long as possible. Before long Micheal and Jacob were finished, and began sticking their dishes in the sink. Christine's heart skipped a beat when she heard the familiar sound of a key unlocking the front door. She jumped out of her seat, and was overjoyed to see William finally returning home. Her feelings quickly turned from happy, to upset, to disappointed as the boys ran over to their father. She felt like she was going through emotional whiplash.

"Dad, you're finally back!" Jason ran up and hugged his father, while Micheal quickly came up after him. "Hey kids; I missed dinner didn't I?"

"Y-yea, but it's ok."

"Are you gonna play catch with us?" Micheal prodded. William rubbed the back of his neck, and locked eyes with Christine, who was still standing on the opposite side of the table. "Sorry Mike, but I gotta get back to work. I just stopped in to grab some food."

"What?" Jason whined, looking at his father. "Come on, we haven't seen you in forever!"

"I'm real sorry kiddos, but I've got a big grown-up job I've got to do." Both kids grumbled, but lamented, retreating to the living room to watch tv.

Christine finally stepped up to William as he grabbed some leftovers from the kitchen. "Will, you said you'd come for dinner." He sighed. "I'm really sorry, but I caught up with work and rushed over just now." Christine rubbed her temples, feeling like her frustration would manifest into a headache at any moment. "Will…" William stopped, putting his plate down, and leaning against the kitchen counter. "I'm sorry Christine, I really am." William sighed, leaning into the counter even more. "I just need to get this done, need to fix the animatronics."

"How many more times are we going to keep doing this?"

"Christine-"

"No, it's only been a week but there's no end in site for you, how long are you going to keep avoiding us?! What are you going to do if one day you come back home and there's no family left waiting for you?!" Christine instantly pulled back when she saw hurt gleam in William's eyes. "Will…"

William turned to face her. She expected to see hatred but was instead faced with a sad, far-off understanding. Both stood silently for many long moments, and tears began to well up in Christine's eyes, dripping down her face. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have…" William embraced Christine in a long, tight hug. "Just give me a bit more time, then I'll be back." Tears continued to stream down Christine's face, and she buried her face into William's shoulder. After what felt like hours, but was really only a few long moments, William pulled away from his wife, grabbed a plate of food, then left the kitchen. Christine hugged herself as she heard the familiar creak then click as the front door opened and shut. If she held onto herself tight enough, maybe she could pretend that William was still there.

* * *

Christine changed into her nightgown and stepped into bed, but she still felt wide awake. She rubbed her eyes, hoping to will some sleepiness into them. _That couldn't have gone worse, and now…_ Her mind raced, refusing to settle down for sleep.

Christine folded her hands and stared up at the ceiling, just one large swath of black, dimly lit by the faint, red light of the electric clock sitting on the nightstand next to her. Her mind wandered around William, like it was instinctively engaged in a dance, rooting out what William was hiding. _Is he hiding something? _Christine felt silly, fancying herself paranoid, but she desperately wanted to find the reason behind her husband's madness.

_I… suppose I have nothing better to do. _Chrsitine rolled onto her side, her gaze settling on the clock. _The worst that could happen is I'm wrong._

* * *

Christine spent the next day running around in circles, so to speak. Worries crept into her mind, and the more she thought about them the more concerned she became. _I know Will is so much more knowledgeable about animatronics than I am, but why does he need all those new features, even if it's just the one that was broken? _Christine scrunched her eyebrows as she sat in the living room, daytime television droning on in the background.

'_Parental voice sync,' is that a safety precaution or something else? Wouldn't Will have put in precautions before the accident, the robots would be near children after all. Why wouldn't he have done it? We should have been especially careful if they were going to be near Elizabeth, and…_

Christine reached for the remote and turned off the tv, leaning her head back into the armchair and listening to the silence. _The more I think about this, the more it doesn't make sense. He shouldn't feel so rushed to make changes. Well yes, that's William being William, it's never been this bad before. At least that one time he got like this he was home; that complex across the street isn't good for him, or anyone for that matter. _Christine sighed. _That modification to the fox has me worried, I can't get it out of my head. I just think of some evil robot luring off a kid to some dark back alley._

Panic began to seep into Christine's chest as she rolled the idea around in her mind. It began to make more and more sense as she sat there. Part of her wanted to tear herself away from the thought, but she couldn't, not as the horrible realization dawned on her. _Would William really..?_

Christine got up from the chair, and gripped her shaking hands. She felt like she knew something she shouldn't, but also that something horrible was going to happen if she just let it ruminate.

She quickly went to the bedroom and put on a pair of slip ons before quickly crossing the street and heading to the complex. Maybe if she could take a look at the blueprints, or talk to William, she could clear this up. She desperately wanted to be wrong, have William say "oh, no, that's silly, I'm just making the robots safe!" and laugh at herself for being so paranoid. But another part of her couldn't forgive herself if she didn't check.


	7. Chapter 7

Warning for: violence and death

* * *

Christine impatiently tapped her foot as she stood in the dimly-lit elevator, that same muffled, happy-go-lucky music playing as before. With a loud "shunk" the elevator came to a stop and the door opened. She quietly stepped out, hesitating as she grabbed the lip of the vent. She closed her eyes, let out one long breath, then climbed in.

Christine didn't like that she was starting to get familiar with this place. She awkwardly hopped out of the vent and into the main room, still horribly cramped and dimly lit. _If I can find those blueprints and get a closer look at them, maybe I can put this to rest without having to confront Will. _Her shoes clicked against the tile floor as she moved over to the left podium, turning on the light. The ballerina was there, same as before. Unlike the other animatronics she had seen before, this one looked untouched, spared from William's new wave of modifications. The floor around the robot was clean, it looked like William hadn't been in there at all.

Christine turned off the light, and walked over to the right side of the room, with the window looking over to Funtime Foxy. She quickly turned on the light, and was met with a much more messy room than the other. The animatronic had been moved away from the small stage against the wall, and a mix of tools, bolts, and bits of wire lay scattered around it. It looked like someone had gone to town on a engineer-themed pinata. Amidst all the clutter, Christine spied a piece of familiar blue paper. She saw that they were two blueprints, both laid flat and held down on their ends by stray screws and bolts. Christine left the light on, and slipped through the vent into the next room. She thanked herself for wearing slip ons instead of flats this time; she'd learned her lesson last time she came down here.

The animatronic was rather imposing once she got up close to it; Christine couldn't help but feel a bit unnerved. Maybe it was because the eyes were just staring into space, maybe the fact that it wasn't moving whatsoever, not even from a wheeze of air. Christine shook her head, and went straight for the blueprints by the fox's feet. _Not like they're supposed to be moving like that, not when they're down here. _

"Ah-ha." Christine let out a small exclamation of triumph as she retrieved the blueprints, straightening up and holding them up to the overhead light. She looked at the one for Funtime Foxy first, and sure enough "parental voice sync" was scrawled out in one of the corners. She grew disappointed when she couldn't glean any further information from the schematic. Maybe someone with more technical know-how could tell her what she was looking at, but for now most of it may as well have been written in a foreign language. She sighed in defeat, before focusing her attention to the second blueprint that she had picked up.

_Funtime Freddy_, Christine read to herself. This blueprint looked rather similar to the first, a schematic of the animatronic, showing the inner workings of the robot like an x ray. Yet again, nearly everything had been edited over, but by sheer luck Christine could make out more of the add-ons William had written down. '_Proximity sensors.' Ok, nothing too worrying, just making sure the robot doesn't bump into things. _Just as quickly as Christine had gotten her hopes up, a lump of dread began building in her chest. '_Parental tracking, luring, storage tank…' _"T-this isn't right."

"Christine, what are you doing down here?" Christine's heart nearly jumped out of her chest, and she whipped around, nearly bumping into the animatronic and dropping the blueprints. "Will, don't scare me like that!" William stepped out from the vent, and stood a few footsteps away from Christine.

"We need to talk, Will, about the plans for your robots. What are these?" William looked taken off guard as his wife spoke. "I-I hoped I was just worried about nothing, that I'd get to laugh at how silly and paranoid I was being, but-" She looked down at the blueprints. "-parental tracking, luring? What are you doing Will?"

"Christine." William calmly spoke as he took a few steps towards her. "What are you doing…" She whispered more quietly this time, lowering the blueprints and looking back up at her husband. "What… do you think I'm doing?" William slowly took the blueprints from Christine's hands, and quietly rolled them up. "I'm scared you're going to do something horrible with them." She looked at her empty hands, then her vision drifted up to William's face. "Please tell me I'm just being stupid, seeing things that aren't there."

"Are you going to want to tell someone about this?" Christine silently nodded, still feeling confused. "I guess this means I should finally tell you then." _Tell me what? _"I can't keep it a secret from you any longer."

William took a breath of air, before saying, in a serious voice with no hint of jocularity: "Elizabeth's soul is possessing Circus Baby."

"What?" Panic rose in Christine's chest as she searched William for any sign that this was some cruel joke, but she became even more upset when she saw that he was all but kidding. "At least that's the best approximation I can come up with for now." Christine hugged her sides. "But ghosts aren't…" Her voice trailed off, knowing that whatever he had just said was true, no matter how incomprehensible it seemed. "How..?" William continued "Something happened when Circus Baby killed Elizabeth, they merged together almost, but it's her, she's in there. She's been talking, saying things only Elizabeth would know."

"Will…"

"I have to figure out what's going on, I need to bring her back."

"She's not coming back!" Christine shouted, now-familiar tears dripping down her face. She held her hands down against her sides, gripping her dress in an attempt to stop them from shaking. "You can't undo things, killing children won't bring her back."

"You don't understand."

"No-no, this isn't right. I-I'm going to call the police."

"I can't let you do that." William grabbed Christine's arm as she took a hesitant step forward, and her breath quickened as she saw him drop the blueprints and reach for something in his pocket. "W-Will…" Her eyes richoched from the glint of a knife to the determined, empty face of William, and as she desperately floundered she felt the cold force of the blade diving into her stomach.

"W-" Christine shook, feeling paralyzed by the pain that quickly seeped through her body. She couldn't move. Even if she tried, she was frozen. William lowered himself to his knees, holding the knife in one hand, and cradling his wife's back with the other. Christine managed to lean her head up, feeling bile and blood well up in the back of her throat. William was just staring at the knife, holding it inside of her. She wanted to throw up.

Christine registered the wetness running down her stomach, and trailing down her knees and onto the tile floor. It felt surreal, knowing she was bleeding out. Christine didn't look down, she didn't want to see. She didn't want to see William's eyes, either, though. William pulled out the knife, and she felt a loss of pressure, but a wave of nausea ran over her a heartbeat later, and she instinctively drew her hands to her stomach, which was just about the only movement she could muster.

William plunged the knife into her again, and after that a third time. It felt like the life was draining from her. Christine felt her hands grow wet from the blood, and her vision began to blur. "I wish I could have done it more painlessly, but if I want to duplicate it I'm going to have to make it as violent as possible." Blood bubbled out of Christine's mouth as a screaming whine overtook her senses. Everything felt far-off; she could barely register William's voice. She dropped her hands to her sides, and her head was suddenly too heavy to prop up on it's own. _Please..._


	8. Chapter 8

A distant humming pulled Christine out of her sleep. _Is… something on? _She thought, as she slowly came to. Her thoughts were shallow, only half-aware of themselves.

She sat up, her eyes still closed. Everything felt wrong, felt strange, but she could explain why or how, exactly. Her body was stiff and cold. It felt like there was some foggy barrier between her mind and her senses. She finally opened her eyes. They clicked open unnaturally, and she flinched back in surprise. Everything was still dark, her vision no better than when she was sleeping. She squinted her eyes shut.

Dripping. Something was dripping on the floor. A hard floor. She wasn't home. _Am I crying? _She carefully lifted her hand up to her cheek, but all her fingers felt was a swath of cold. She couldn't feel the warmth of her tears, of her skin, no matter how hard she searched for them. She leaned forward, worry slowly building up inside of her as she opened her eyes again, wanting to search for something. _W-what's going on?_

'Plop.' Something dropped down into her cupped hands from her eyes. She slowly closed her fingers around it, confused. It squished slightly in her hand, and was slick and slightly sticky. It was round, too. _I need to get to a hospital._

She unsteadily pulled herself to her feet, but quickly collapsed onto her hands and knees when she tried to stand up on her own. 'Plimp.' Something else dislodged from her body and gave a soft 'splat' as it hit the tile floor. She wanted to shake but her body suddenly wasn't sure how to. _Out of. That came out of my body. _She slowly began to crawl across the floor, not even sure where the exit was. _A hospital, I need a hospital. _It didn't hurt. As she continued to move wet, slimy, squishy things began to fall out of her. She felt grinding and dripping in her joints. It didn't hurt, but she tried to convince herself that it did.

'Clank.' She bumped into a wall.

_Why… would my head make that sound?_

She lifted one of her hands up, and felt her forehead, still unnaturally cold and smooth. She traced her fingers up to her hair, a sculpted form that didn't fall down around her head when she pressed it. _Hair shouldn't feel like that._ She kept her hand trained on her head, only vaguely aware of the panic that she knew she should be feeling.

She sat down and leaned against the wall, feeling nothing against her skin. It just pushed back on her, but she couldn't feel it. "A hospital… I should get to a hospital…" Her mind latched onto the idea as she whispered it faintly, hardly able to realize anything else. It felt as if all her senses had been stifled. She was hardly aware of the wall that she was slumped against, the liquid that was dripping down her face and her sides and her arms and her legs and what felt like every inch of her body.

She was startled when a light suddenly turned on. At least she think it did. The whine of a fluorescent light scratched through her foggy senses, and she thought she could see a dim halo of foggy light peek through her eyelids.

"It moved." It was someone's voice, someone familiar. A man. Serious, factual, but it sounded as if he was hiding a hint of triumph, too. _I should know who that is._ "Can you hear me?" She slowly turned her head, realizing that the voice was coming from a loudspeaker far over her head. "Who's there?" she hesitantly said, trying again to stand up, this time steadying herself against the wall. She realized, as she leaned against it, that the upper part of the wall was made of plexiglass. "Holy shit, it really worked."

"Please, help me, something's wrong." She quickly said, managing to hold herself up. "Do you recognize my voice?" The man began to probe, clearly not interested in who-knows-what being wrong with her body. "Yes, but please, I need to get to a hospital. Something's wrong with me."

"What's my name?"

"I can't find a way out, and I can't see."

"What's my name."

"Please…"

"What's my name."

"I don't know, but please, I'm scared I might be dying."

The man didn't reply this time. Did she say something wrong? Was this all part of some sick joke? She knew that voice was familiar, but she couldn't tell who it was.

"Do you know your name?" Her mind paused. She began to panic. "I… don't know." _Why don't I know my name? I know I have one! _"Do you know where you are?" Her mind raced. _Why is he asking all these questions? Why don't I know the answer? I know I should know these things, why have I suddenly forgotten them? _"I'm not home." That's all she could muster. She didn't know where she was, but she knew it was cold and dark and she desperately wished for the familiar air of 'home,' wherever or whatever that was.

"William: do you know that name?" _William?_ "...my husband?" She heard a few quick, crackling breaths over the loudspeaker. "Yes, it's her, it's really her. It worked." Faint memories scratched at the edges of her mind, she felt like she had been here before, and the idea of 'William' kept creeping in. "I… a husband… but I don't…" _Why is this familiar, why am I here and you're there? Why aren't you working with the robots, William?_

"Why aren't you working with the robots?" The breathing stopped, and she was suddenly acutely aware of the silence that hung in the air. "You haven't realized yet, have you? I didn't think it'd take you this long to figure out." _Figure out what? _"You're an animatronic."

"Is Christine in there or is it just some manifested extension of Ballora I'm talking to?"

"No…" That was her name: 'Christine.' It wasn't, though. She felt disconnected. 'Ballora' suddenly felt unnaturally familiar. She felt like she had heard the name just a few times and hundreds simultaneously. A picture formed in her mind, a blue and white ballerina: a fake living off of wires and manufactured smiles. _Why do I know that?_

She tried to take a step forward, but instantly fell to the ground, catching herself at an awkward angle. Her torso impossibly twisted to the side, and she retreated to sitting on her knees, terrified to try anything else.

"It wasn't like this before. Baby was acting like normal aside from talking."

"Make this stop, please."

"That's not going to happen-"

"Please…"

"-I have to learn more about you." The loudspeaker clicked off. She was alone. She didn't even know if he was still on the other side of the wall, watching her. She sat perfectly still; it came unnaturally easy. She didn't know what to do, so she just sat. After a while, the light turned off and the loud buzzing stopped, replaced by a more quiet, muffled tone before even that disappeared. _What do I do…_

Someone else might have laughed at the absurdity of her situation, but she was terrified, hoping that it was all one cruel joke but knowing it wasn't. It was very real.

She didn't even know what to call herself. Her mind felt like a foggy melting pot, mixing bits of Christine and Ballora together until she felt like patchwork.

She didn't know who she was anymore.


	9. Chapter 9

She stood in the corner, her hands carefully held against her sides. She didn't like fiddling with them. She was scared that every movement would break her, each sliding joint felt acutely uncomfortable. She flinched when her fingers brushed her tutu, a quiet 'click' sounding when the two met. She didn't know how much time had passed. Several hours at least, but she couldn't really tell.

Her body was horribly stiff. As she stood silently in the darkness, a realization dawned on her and she clenched up even tighter. _If I'm really dead, then this stuff inside of me is…_ She wanted to throw up, but she didn't have a stomach. _There's a body in me isn't there? What's left of me, what's left of Christine… _Most of the blood had dried by now, she only felt stickiness in the nooks and crannies of her frame. The blood that had flowed down her face and sides had dried, and begun flaking away at the joints.

Ballora wanted to run, but it was so dark and- _No, that's not… That's not my name…_ She started to catch herself thinking that, thinking of herself as Ballora. _I'm Christine, not Ballora. William said I was Christine, and I know that name, I know it's mine… _Still, the more she thought about it the less she was convinced. What did she remember about herself? _My name is Christine, my husband is William, I have three children, I live in a house in the woods, and I wanted to be a ballerina… _

_I don't know my last name, I don't know my children's faces, I don't remember what my house looks like. I don't remember…_

_I'm a ballerina, I have blue hair, I live here in the dark, and I'll make children smile…_

"No… That's not me…" She whispered quietly, catching herself. "That's not me, that's not me!" She bent down into a ball, now clutching her plasticy face with her hands, scratching at the streaks of dried blood. "That's not me!" She pressed further and further into her skin, though it wasn't even that anymore. She just wanted to feel something, to do something. "No!" She jolted forward, hearing a series of sharp clicks as her head snapped forward. It felt a bit like a release of pressure, and she slowly reached up again with her hands to feel her face. She desperately wanted to pull away, but in equal part her mind was shouting at her with morbid curiosity to dig deeper.

The smooth surface of her face was gone. No, it had moved. It had rippled apart at a set of seams she hadn't noticed until now. Ballora slowly ran her fingers down their edges, wanting to avoid where they would inevitably go next.

She reached inside her face. It was a pit of sharp metal and wires; forced into something humanoid, but distinctly alien. She covered it with her hands. This part of her was still sticky with blood, and she slowly began to explore it with her fingertips. Between the loops of cold, unmoving wires were small chunks of flesh and bone. She slowly pulled them out, dropping each piece onto the floor with a soft 'splat' or 'click,' depending on what it was.

After she was finished, she stood there for a long time. She imagined each piece of flesh still somewhere inside her wriggling around, like worms. She didn't know if there were two people in her or one anymore.

* * *

Ballora jolted to life, hearing faint, muffled music, and after a few moments it was replaced with the buzzing of the light. She waited in silence.

"What did you do to your face." It was William's voice on the loudspeaker again. "You aren't going to accomplish anything by doing that." Silence. _He's going to do something, isn't he?_

Suddenly an electric shock raced through Ballora's body, throwing her to the ground. She didn't think she could feel pain anymore but this hurt. "Ballora gallery vent open." She heard nothing but screaming in her ears, and her joints indiscriminately locking up. Everything hurt, but it was a different kind of hurt. It was supremely uncomfortable, and she felt like it had just ripped her apart and smashed her back together. It wasn't a searing hot, rather a frantic cold that raced through every surface of her body until she wasn't sure she had one.

'Click.' She heard William switch something in her face. She hadn't even realized that he'd… _I can't move. _William rolled her onto her back. _What did that switch do. _He gripped the sides of her head, cranning to get a better look inside her face. Her eyes were squinted shut, her arms lying uselessly at her sides. Her body refused to move, even if she screamed at it.

"Didn't mess up the face plates, but you should be more careful with your endoskeleton." He continued to talk nonchalantly, now using a screwdriver to probe inside of her face. "You've been trying to rip this stuff out, haven't you? I'm sure I put some of Christine's fingers in here but now they're all over the floor." Ballora was now getting familiar with the feeling of wanting to throw up. He pulled back and closed the faceplates one by one, but hesitated once he was finished.

Ballora heard the jangling of tools, and felt William put his hands across a seam in her chest. "Know I was going to do this anyways, but I may as well do it now since you've already given me a headstart." _What are you-_ He pushed a screwdriver through the seam that he'd pinpointed with his fingers, and with a large 'pop' half of the casing on her chest dislodged. "Took me quite a while to fit Christine's body in here; it doesn't have a compartment like Baby's does." _No. _William reached inside her chest, pushing aside the second half of the casing, and pulled something out. Ballora couldn't see, but as he lifted it out of her, she could tell it was a large mass, one William had to resituate himself to pull out. With a muffled 'thunk' it was thrown to the ground.

Ballora desperately wanted to crawl away, to disappear, but she was helpless. She wanted to scream and cry as he dismantled her, reaching into each nook and cranny of her body, pushing in tools and fingers and coming out with pieces of flesh and bone.

"I was worried that pulling out Elizabeth's body would make her leave Baby, so I haven't touched that part of her yet." _Elizabeth… _"If I pull out Christine, and you're still working, that means the body doesn't need to be in there permanently for it to work." _I know Elizabeth…_

"This will be perfect if it works. It means 'Circus Baby's Entertainment and Rentals' gets to go ahead with opening. Can't have animatronics leaking blood in front of the kids, can they?" _Is that what you're going to do with me? _

"Hmph." William put his tools away and then leaned over to flip the switch in her endoskeleton. As William began to walk back towards the observation room, Ballora tried to pull herself up. "I'll deal with the leftovers tomorrow."

"Please-" Ballora desperately dragged herself a few arms lengths towards him, before stopping, realizing she couldn't get out in time. "Ballora gallery vent closed."

Ballora layed hunched over in the darkness. She slowly began to feel around her, and her fingers brushed something clammy. She quickly pulled back, but reached out and touched it again. It was a piece that William had pulled out of her, she realized. _A piece of Christine._

She let her hand rest on it. She didn't know how she should react. _Should I be sad for myself? Sad for Christine? Sad for the life she left behind?_ She laid there for a long time. William had dismantled her and only partially reassembled her, leaving her fearful of falling apart if she moved too quickly. Metal plates lay scattered around her, like layers of skin. There were nuts and bolts, too, dotted across the floor. She didn't know where any of it went. It was strange to know nothing about her body, or how it worked. It felt alien, but with what was left of Christine removed, Ballora felt some strange sigh of relief bubble up from deep inside her. She didn't feel clogged up anymore, she just felt unsure and empty. _I don't know which is the better alternative._


End file.
